


America's Shield Arm

by Lokei



Series: Steve Rogers at the Smithsonian [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Gen, Journalism, Museums, POV Outsider, Smithsonian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 02:16:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2834498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokei/pseuds/Lokei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers was in her exhibition, looking lost, and her heart broke for him all over again.  It was so easy in her line of work to consider the past like an epic story, and her role as that of a storyteller, influenced by the stories she herself had been told, by Nan especially.  It was so easy to forget that the past didn't have the same comfortable separation of distance for him, until it was written all over his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	America's Shield Arm

 

**_Star-Struck by the Star Spangled Man_ **

**_Captain America: The Living Legend & Symbol of Courage opens this week at The Smithsonian Institute's Museum of Air & Space_ **

 

_This exhibition, co-hosted by the Smithsonian's Museum of Air and Space and  National Museum of American History, features an in-depth exploration of the deeds both historical and modern conducted by Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America.  Inspiring without being insipid and gritty enough to cause those of us who lived through the New York attack some pause at the end of the show, this exhibition tries to do a lot and generally succeeds._

_The last few years have seen a wealth of articles, scholarly and otherwise, about the impact of the Captain America propaganda machine of the 1940's and the reality of his existence in 21st century America. This exhibit owes some debt to the better researched of those articles, but even the greatest Captain America aficionado, fan, or historian will find something to appreciate in the Smithsonian's thoughtful portrayal of the ascent of Captain Steve Rogers and the friends, colleagues, and teammates who orbited him in that rise._

_MORE ON PAGE C12, "SPANGLED"  
_

_= = = = =_

 6.

 She didn't mean to notice, wouldn't have without the flicker of familiar motion in the corner of her eye.  She was just passing through the galleries, doing a maintenance sweep, looking for lost children and broken pieces.

 Having noticed him, she certainly wasn't planning on doing anything about it.  The poor man looked even more haunted than--her mind stuttered away from the thought and focused on the man in front of her, gaunt and bruised around the eyes, and so unlike his picture that she never would have recognized him, without--

 But she wouldn't stare, having noticed him.  She just--paused on her way through the gallery, an unavoidable quirk at the corner of her mouth as she considered fate, and irony, and the power of memories, both good and bad. 

 = = = = =

  _"This exhibition almost didn't happen," curator Evelina Johansson says.  "There have been enough movies, retrospectives, documentaries, and exhibitions on the events surrounding World War II to leave even the most devoted of history buffs feeling a little tired of the subject.  Add in the copious amounts of Captain America mythology and you run the risk of creating not a blockbuster, but a snoozefest.  What could be left to say about such topics in a post 9/11 world?"_

  _As it turns out, quite a bit._

 = = = = =

0.

 She looked at the meeting notes that had just landed in front of her, and looked up at her boss. 

 "Seriously?  I'm on the Cap exhibition?"  She grinned a little.  "How many strings did you pull?"

 Her boss shook her head.  "Even here, not everything's bound by red tape.  Sometimes it's a simple as picking the right person for the job."  She tapped her finger on the manila folder in front of her before pushing it across the desk.  "Sensitive topic, though, so walk softly."

 "And carry a big shield?" She murmured in return, getting only a resigned head-shake of amusement before excusing herself to go have a geeky flip-out in the nearest restroom.

 Six months ago, when she'd moved to DC to finally take up a spot working for the Smithsonian, she'd heard rumors about this project, and the prospect of being in the same institution alone made moving to a former swamp worth the effort.  Now she was involved in the interpretive and interactive design team, and going to spend the next year and a half marinating in all things historically-accurate-Captain-America.

 If only her grandmother were still around to see it.

 = = = = =

  _The one aspect in which this exhibition could be something of a disappointment is the lack of current-day source material from the subject himself.  Though close attention to the credit panel indicates that the museum did consult with now-Commander Rogers, all footage, quotes, and other source material comes from what was already a matter of historic or public record, so those hoping for a few new juicy words from Captain America himself will be out of luck.  Those who feel that the exhibit runs the risk of invading the man's privacy, however, will be gratified at the restraint shown by the curatorial team._

 = = = = =

 1.

 He didn't come in for most of the planning meetings she was part of--she was too far down the totem pole, and he was both busy and apparently kind of adorably uncomfortable with the whole idea of an exhibition about him.

 It was one of his stipulations, actually, that the SSR team, and the Howling Commandos all be given their due.  Fortunately the recent donation of materials from Mr. Stark provided plenty of objects to go along with the archival documents in New York they'd already had a chance to scan and study.  (She was going to copy and frame that permission letter, actually, when all this was over.  Stark's signature wasn't in short supply, but the addendum underneath that read 'Make Rogers blush at least once and I'll be indebted forever.  Reprint whatever the hell you want.' had made her laugh for at least twenty minutes straight.  She didn't care what the papers or the internet had to say about Tony Stark or his Iron Man activities--she suspected him to be refreshingly human under all the media-driven bluster.) 

 There was one meeting, though, where she'd prepped a presentation of the proposed digital and 'low-tech' interactives, and when she'd walked in the room to set up the projector, she found Steve Rogers at parade rest at the window, staring out at the Mall and the monument in the distance.  Naturally, she promptly dropped flash drive, handouts, and all sense of pride and composure in a pile in the doorway.

 "Let me give you a hand with that," he was at her side in a moment and it was a miracle of nearly Christmas-proportions that she didn't bash his nose in when she looked up in wonder.  "Sorry if I startled you, I was a little early and they said I could just wait in here."

 His eyes were a stupidly gorgeous blue, like a robin's egg or a spring morning, and if she said anything intelligible at all, she would bless her autopilot courtesy forever, but she honestly couldn't remember.  She did remember getting to give her presentation, not daring to look in his direction, but feeling the weight of his concentrated attention anyway as she detailed multi-sensory experiences, the interactive map/timeline with its web-based public history component, and visitor feedback station.  At the end, out of breath and nearly out of backbone, she risked a glance to find him looking at her with the kind of heart-breakingly bittersweet smile that made her want to climb mountains or jump out of planes if he'd only ask her to.

 (Which was saying something, because she was not a hiking or parachuting kind of girl.  Finding a dead fish floating in the Potomac when canoeing was about as adventurous as she liked to get.)

 "Nice job," he said quietly.

 = = = = =

  _As always, the audio and video that accompanies this exhibition reaches the Smithsonian's high standards, but don't miss the smaller interactive station where you can watch oral histories about Rogers and the Howling Commandos, or record your own.  Johansson says this is one of the most popular pages on the Museum of American History's website.  "Who are we without our stories?" Johansson says.  "History is about the little people as well as the heroes.  And Rogers' story is so compelling because it is both."_

 = = = = =

 3.

 He didn't come to the exhibition opening.  She wasn't surprised, but she couldn't stop looking for him anyway, every time she passed through the gallery.

 = = = = =

  _Speaking of the power of story, pieces of this exhibition read like the best kind of novel--and while the push in all museums, history included, has been towards less text on the wall in recent years, and more engaging audiovisual content, it's well worth the time and effort to get here on a quiet morning and read the supplemental materials provided._

 = = = = =

2.

 "Really, how many times do you need to go over this?" her boyfriend dropped a mug of tea at her elbow.  "You said the computer and video geniuses had it handled."

 "And an intern did the transcription and captioning," she said, pausing the film footage on her laptop to give him a grateful smile.  "An intern who was not an English major.  I just need to make sure he didn't miss anything.  Typos are the Hydra of exhibition labels, insidious and easily overlooked until it's too late."

 "That's my perfectionist." He shook his head, patted her shoulder, and left her to the flickering black and white swing of shoulder, chin, smile, blond head and brown, Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes, off to save the world.

 = = = = =

   
 _"We wanted the people of the SSR to be recognizable, and their experiences as being simply more extreme versions of many of the same things we experience now, that soldiers experienced then," adds Johansson.  "Rogers is famous for describing himself as 'just a kid from Brooklyn,' so it was important to democratize the experience, make it relatable.  Yes, he did, and continues to do, amazing things.  But so did all the people around him, and he wanted it known that he couldn't have done what he did without them.  I hope he's pleased with how we tried to tell that story, to let the visitors live some of it alongside these people's memories."_

 = = = = =

 4.

 The kid spotted him first, and for the first time in an hour, she was glad she was on visitor-observation evaluation duty today.  Much of the museum was quiet but this hall was busy, and keeping track of her randomly selected observation targets was proving difficult.  She'd let her gaze glaze right past those broad blue shoulders with a dim frustration and a mental quip about certain people making 'a better door than a window,' as her grandmother used to say.  But the open-mouthed wonder of the kid she was observing made her track back, and it was all she could do not to gasp. 

 Steve Rogers was in her exhibition, looking lost, and her heart broke for him all over again.  It was so easy in her line of work to consider the past like an epic story, and her role as that of a storyteller, influenced by the stories she herself had been told, by Nan especially.  It was so easy to forget that the past didn't have the same comfortable separation of distance for him, until it was written all over his face.

 She wondered why he was even here, when he'd avoided the exhibit entirely after signing off on the interpretive plan all those months ago.

 A policeman who'd been involved in the battle of New York had stopped her in the hallway last week, had told her that he'd just seen the exhibit for the third time, had brought his family, had finally begun to move past the nightmares.  She wondered if she should tell the Captain, but by the time she'd decided to approach him, he'd gone.

 = = = = =

  _A final small quibble with this exhibition is more a testament to its successes than its failures.  The team that prepared this exhibit did such a good job highlighting the personal relationships between Rogers and his team--especially the deep friendships between himself and Agent Margaret Carter and himself and Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, that one is left desperately wanting an exhibition each for these titans as well.  A panel on Barnes, a video interview with Carter?  Take them in and then head to the museum store for a couple of decent biographies, because there is clearly more to the story than they had room to cover in the scope of this exhibit._

 = = = = =

 5.

 The news coverage was chaotic, and terrifying, and if she still had a residence or a workplace by the end of the day she'd seriously consider going back to church on a regular basis.  There were aircraft carriers falling out of the sky, and conflicting reports about the Captain, his loyalties, his life--

 She left the basement room where the staff had gathered, left the buzz of worry and the frantic bleating of news anchors, and climbed the stilled escalator to the exhibit hall, to sit in the eerie silence in front of a naked mannequin.

 In spite of it all, someone still believed in Captain America.  She hoped it was Steve Rogers.

 = = = = =

   
 _It's easy in this age of 24 hour news cycles, media monopolies, and big business, to get cynical about the things we claim we're fighting for.  Go see this exhibit._

 = = = = =

 7.

 "No way James Barnes is still alive," her boyfriend said over dinner that night. "And no way he turned up at the museum, even if he were.  Why the hell would he?"

 She shrugged.  "Cap was frozen and survived - who says Bucky couldn't have been?  And you know museums are where you go to learn things."

 "Back to 'Cap and Bucky,' are we?"

 She'd been avoiding their nicknames since that interpretive meeting.  It felt irresponsible, to speak as familiarly of them as her grandmother had, who had been a small but constant part of the SSR, who had started her on her voyage into history.  Seeing Barnes--and she was sure it was he, after all that footage she'd watched, he still walked the same--had somehow given the beloved heroes of her Nan's stories back to her, and their names seemed to fit them again.  She smiled and shook her head.

 "Do you suppose he knows?"

 "Cap about Bucky, or the other way around?"

 "Either, both," she smiled.  "It'd be nice, wouldn't it, to think maybe something I helped put together could bring them back to each other?"

 "That's my romantic," he said.  "Suffering delusions of grandeur after her brush with fame..."

 She tackled him as he fended her off with a silver and blue starred pillow, and she laughed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I do work in the museum world, but not at the Smithsonian, so the way their exhibits get developed may not work this way.


End file.
